


Let It Snow

by Tuesdayschildd



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: And More Fluff, Christmas Prompt, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Then smut, because god I haven't written smut in SO long, snowstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 11:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16952760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuesdayschildd/pseuds/Tuesdayschildd
Summary: Christmas Prompt: We always carpool home for the holidays from college, but a storm hit and now we're taking the last room at a B&B.Day 4 Riverdale Reindeer Games: Vixen, snowed in.ORBest friends Veronica and Archie don't check the weather report. Best thing that's ever happened to them.





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from my Varchie fic twin @theeternalblue  
> It was supposed to be a drabble, but I just couldn't help myself.

 

 

 

 

“Archie, I think this is a lost cause. We can’t even see the road anymore,” Veronica sighed as another text came in to her phone, one from his mother this time. Their parents had been tracking their progress home from college for hours now, and what should have been a four hour trip had turned into seven, and they weren’t even half way there yet. “It’s just a dusting,” Archie had said when he picked her up outside her dorm, watching the skeptical look on her face as the snow flurries surrounded them.  
  
This trip was as much a part of their winter break tradition as was the rest of the holidays. Shear luck had the two friends-since-grade-school attending college in the same city, and it just made sense that they traveled home for Christmas together. She paid for gas and snacks, and he drove.   
  
Archie squints through his truck’s windshield, the squeak of the rapid wipers, barely able to keep up with the falling snow, filling the truck. His knuckles turn white on the steering wheel as he continues at their snail’s pace down the highway, not another car in sight for the last twenty minutes and at least an hour since they saw a plow truck. The roads were indeed snow covered and then some, eerily quiet with the muted blanket of white.   
  
“I think we should get off at the next exit. Find a place to stay. Our parents will thank us when they can stop worrying,” she tries again. “Look there’s an exit in a mile,” she says, pointing at the sign as it creeps up on them.   
  
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Archie agrees. “This sucks.”   
  
“It will suck less once we’re settled. Our parents can stop worrying, and I can charge my phone. Maybe it’ll clear up in a couple hours.”   
  
He laughs at her optimism. “Even if it stops now, there’s no way these roads will be any better before morning. I guess you’re stuck with me for the night, Lodge.”   
  
She smiles at her friend as he pulls into the exit lane. “Not the worst thing in the world, Archiekins.”   
  
She tries to read the small signs lining the exit ramp as they pass, but they’re snow covered and she doesn’t recognize the bottom half of the symbols. “Maybe we should just stop at the first hotel we see?”   
  
“Left or right?” Archie asks as he breaks towards the end of the ramp. The pedal pushes back at him with the anti-lock brake system, and he feels the truck sliding. “Fuck, hold on.”   
  
“Why?” She asks, but she can hear the breaks and see they’re coming in too fast to the intersection. There are no cars around, but the other side of the road is a ditch, and Archie decides he’s going to try to turn the truck to lose some of the momentum.   
  
“Archie!” She’s yelling, subconsciously reaching across the bench seat in fright and her hand ends up clutching his mid thigh when the truck finally stops sliding.   
  
He turns to grin at her. “Right it is.”   
  
“That’s not funny,” she replies as her nails dig into his jeans a little.   
  
“Sure it is, we stopped.” He looks down at her hand and then back to her face, watching as she realizes what she’s doing and retracts it with a mumbled apology.   
  
“Laugh later, lets stop at the first place we see, I don’t think we should try our luck out here.”   
  
The first place happens to be a small Victorian house bed and breakfast, to which Archie shrugs and Veronica remarks, “No one ever said upstate New York lacked charm.”   
  
He’s able to maneuver the truck into the last spot in the small parking area without hitting anything. Veronica is bundled up and out of the car trying to pull her suitcase from the truck bed without disturbing too much of the snow on the cover, which Archie has the foresight to put on before he picked her up for the trip. Archie’s got hers and his suitcase tucked under his arms before she can protest, and she grabs their small bags of Christmas gifts for their families before closing up the hatch and slowly making their way across the lot and up onto the porch, Archie brushing the snow off his shoulder while Veronica kicks the snow off her boots against the railing.   
  
He can’t help but reach over and brush the snow out of her hair, and he smiles at her like a dork when she says thank you, her heart warming a little in the frigid air. The corner of her mouth is turned up a bit as he holds the door open for her. “Such a gentleman.”   
  
“Anything for you, Ronnie.”   
  
She shakes the chill off as he follows in behind her. The entry way is small, but adorable in that B&B niche way, and she reaches over to hit the bell on the desk while admiring the paintings on the wall.   
  
An elderly woman appears down the hall, wrapped up a tight cardigan, her glasses on a chain around her neck, and once she sees their state, hurries down towards them. “Oh, my dears. You must be frozen! Come in, come in.”   
  
“We are, a bit. Trying to make it to Riverdale, but we’re throwing the towel in for tonight. Any chance you have two rooms available?” Veronica asks sweetly.   
  
“I just have the one room left, hunny.” Veronica side eyes Archie as the woman continues. “Lot of people like you stranded for the night already came in. Unfortunately that’s the best I can do, last room at the top of the stairs.”   
  
“We’ll take it.” Archie agrees before he thinks about it too hard. While Veronica stays downstairs to work out the payment,  Archie’s instructed to bring the bags up to the third floor.   
  
The whole way up the staircase he’s trying to calm his nerves, and internally scolds himself for acting juvenile. It’s _Veronica,_  for God’s sake. Their parents use to bathe them together when they were small. But he’d be lying if he said she hadn’t been on his mind in other ways recently. She always seemed to have boyfriends growing up and he was always just her _best friend Archie_ , but for the last year she’d been single and dare he say _flirtatious_ to the point that he had to ask his friends if they thought she was actually trying to come on to him, because he didn’t believe it himself.   
  
Any hopes of a less than awkward evening are dashed when he opens the door marked number nine and there’s barely any room on the carpet to walk around let alone sleep on the floor. The room is smaller than his bedroom at home, and _fuck him_ that’s a double bed, not a queen.   
  
He can’t even suggest he sleep in the bathtub because there isn’t one, just a shower stall, and he stands there staring around like the answer to his woes are just going to pop out of the floral papered walls.   
  
———-   
  
“You’re all set,” Eleanor, the Inn manager, says as Veronica finishes signing her name on the list of charges. “Now why don’t you go on up and get settled in with your boyfriend, and I’ll heat up two bowls of stew for you for dinner. I threw it together when the first snowbirds came in since all the restaurants are closed now, and there’s plenty left.”   
  
Veronica raises an eyebrow at her insinuation, but lets it pass for lack of energy to offer an explanation. “That would be perfect, thank you, Eleanor.”   
  
She hurries up the steps with the presents, following Eleanor’s earlier instructions about where to find room number nine, and walks in to find Archie standing at the foot of the bed with the suitcases still tucked under his arms, frozen.   
  
“What’s wrong?” She asks, plopping the bags and her purse down on the bed and shrugging out of her coat. He’s still motionless when she’s turns back around from hanging it a hook on the back of the door.   
  
“How is this gunna work?” He asks slowly, peering around the room and trying not to look at her.   
  
“Oh, come on. We’re both adults. It’s not like I’m going to take advantage of you, Archiekins,” she says teasingly, pulling her bag out from under his arm and putting it over by the small window. She digs around in her purse for her cosmetic bag and brushes around him to get to the bathroom, her hand dragging across his back as she does, and he swears he’s hallucinating the whole thing. “I just need a minute. Eleanor is heating us up some stew if you want.” Archie uses the time she’s in the bathroom to finally settle his brain and his suitcase into a corner, though it’s still reachable from most of the small room, and plugs his phone in to charge. Veronica has probably already alerted both sets of their parents that they were stopping for the night, but he texts his dad just to let him know for sure they’re fine and not to worry.   
  
But Archie’s more worried for himself now than he was before. Because if she keeps this up, he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to handle it.   
  
——   
  
They thankfully spend the next hour downstairs in the dining room with Eleanor, who’s stew is amazing. The other guests have all seemed to have settled in for the night and finally Eleanor too excuses herself with a _Now you two enjoy your evening together_ as she pushes the rest of the bottle of wine they were sharing towards them, and has Archie looking at her retreating back oddly.     
  
Veronica wishes Eleanor good night as she reaches for the bottle and pours the rest into their glasses. “She’s so nice, I’ve never been to a B&B with such great service.”   
  
“I’ve never been to a B&B period,” Archie replies, reaching for his glass. He stares out the window in the dining room, watching the snow continue to fall, albeit much less than before. “Sorry, I thought the storm wouldn’t be as bad and we’d make it home. I know how eager you are to start your winter break.”   
  
Her hand reaches up to grip his forearm, and it feels like warm goo spreading up his body as he turns his head to look first at it, then at her. “Hey, it’s my fault, too. I was the one insisting on going home tonight and we’re both at fault for not paying close enough attention to the weather. But this isn’t so bad. It’s kind of nice. Just you and me.”   
  
Her eyes are wrinkling at the corners with the little bit of alcohol they’ve had and he leans back in his chair for fear of doing something stupid as he takes another sip.   
  
He finds a deck of cards in the room and she kicks his butt at rummy twice before yawning and stretching her arms above her head, announcing she’s tired and that she wants to call it a night. The sliver of skin that appears below her sweater when she reaches up has his heart pounding and he’s not sure if the alcohol helped or hurt him in this predicament. But it definitely pushes him to say what he does next.   
  
“You just can’t wait to get into bed with me.”   
  
“You caught me, Archiekins,” she replies swiftly as she stands and brings their empty glasses over to a tray on the sideboard. When the glasses are out of her hands and she brushes at the invisible wrinkles in her clothes, she says quickly as she turns, “Last one to the room has to sleep in the shower!”   
  
He reaches her before she makes it to the first landing on the stairs, grabbing her around the middle as she squeals and kicks, before racing up in front of her. “Not fair,” she pouts with her hands on her hips, but continues up behind him.   
  
When she gets to their room, he’s already lounging back on the middle of the bed, with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed. “You have longer legs, I should have had a head start,” she complains as she closes and locks their door.   
  
“You did, Princess. I still won,” he says smugly.   
  
She tosses her chapstick that she fishes out of her purse quick at him and hits him square in the forehead.   
  
“Ow!”   
  
“That’s for being a sore winner.”   
  
He laughs, rubbing the spot on his head. He watches as she gathers up some stuff from her bag and grabs her cosmetic clutch again, and he’s struck by how domestic this all feels.

 

“I get the bathroom first then.”  
  
“Be my guest.”  
  
While she’s in there, doing whatever it is girls do in the bathroom before bed, he checks his phone. His dad had responded a while ago with a “Sounds good, kid. Be safe” but it’s too late to respond again without waking him, so he scrolls through the ESPN app for a while and then checks the weather forecast.   
  
When he hears the bathroom door opening, he starts, “Good news, the storm is over. We should be fine once the roads are clear in the......” But trails off when he lifts his gaze and sees her crossing the room back to her bag. His tongue goes dry, and he can’t finish his sentence yet. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much thigh before, on her, at least not in his current memory. The maroon tank she has on is like a second skin and the silky black shorts probably shouldn’t even count as shorts with how little they cover, and his hands start to tingle thinking about how soft her skin would feel underneath them. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail and he uses that to save his stutter. “I’ve never seen your hair like that.”  
  
When she turns around towards him, he realizes whatever he thought about her body doesn’t compare to how beautiful her bare glowing face is, but he doesn’t dare comment on that.   
  
“A look saved for the select few. Consider yourself blessed,” she replies as she pushes at his shoulder, because he’s still in the middle of the bed and she wants to pull the covers down.   
  
“Don’t get comfortable, you’re sleeping in the shower, remember?” He’s able to retort back sounding much more sure of himself than he feels. He rushes into the bathroom after grabbing his toothbrush while she laughs, and resists the urge to slap himself while he repeats _she’s your best friend_ over and over in his head.   
  
It takes him an extra minute or two in the bathroom, one to get back in some good headspace, but also because his little Archie is suddenly very awake and making it difficult for him to pee, and he can’t believe what’s happening to him right now. His beautiful best friend in bed right outside the door while he’s sporting a semi and he’s _so fucked_ with however this night turns out.   
  
She’s playing on her phone when he comes out, covers pulled up to her waist, and he wants to memorize the way her hair is fanning across the pillow. He realizes that he doesn’t have any pajamas because he usually sleeps in his boxers and while he knows the polite thing to do is just sleep in his jeans, he wants to ask if it’s okay if he does his normal thing, since she’s been being so bold tonight, too.   
  
He pulls off his sweater and misses her gaze run up and down his chest as he tosses it on his suitcase. “I....uh..... don’t have any pajama pants, Ron. Wasn’t expecting to have a sleepover.”  
  
“It’s fine. I’ve seen you in swim trunks before, it’s the same thing,” she says nonchalantly, but she can’t stop staring at his chest and she’s lucky he’s distracted by removing his pants so that he doesn’t notice.   
  
_It’s definitely not the same thing_ , he thinks as he kicks his jeans off and tosses his socks to the side. _Because I’m getting into bed with you_. He finally sees that she’s been staring at him, and feels a bit bolder. “Like what you see?”  
  
That earns him an eye roll as he lifts the covers up and slips in next to her. “Nobody else is around to admire you, so I thought I’d give you a little ego boost. Obviously, you need it.”  
  
There’s no real way to avoid touching in the small double bed without limbs hanging off, so Veronica decides to go with it and bends her legs to shove her feet under his thigh.   
  
“Your feet are freezing! Put some socks on!”  
  
“I can’t sleep with socks. They’re too constricting.” She replies as she turns a bit towards him and rests her hands lightly on his upper arm.   
  
He jolts at how cold those are, too. “Are you a vampire? Why are you so cold?”  
  
“Relax, this is homeostasis. You’re warm and I’m cold and soon we’ll be at an equilibrium.” Her face seems much closer than before and he decides to lift his arm up and across the pillows to change the position, her hands dropping from him as he does. “Hey, cold hands here. What are you doing?”  
  
He goes with it. “This bed is too fucking small and I need to stretch out to sleep. So get in here.” He motions toward his chest with his free arm.   
  
She thinks a hundred thoughts in a second, but then her mind is blank and she doesn’t know what she’s doing when she straightens out her legs a bit and tucks in closer to his side, resting her head on his upper arm. “You’re so warm.”  
  
“And you’re so cold,” he replies as he bends his arm a bit, and his fingertips ghost over her mid back.   
  
She blames the alcohol for what she does next, and a year from now he’ll mention that she was the one to make the first move, as she rolls onto her side and throws her leg over him. But his other hand comes down to rest on the back of her thigh, and it takes a solid thirty seconds of gentle finger caresses across bare skin from both of them before he’s dropping an F bomb and rolling over on top of her as she widens her legs and he settles in between them. Her arms are up around his neck and they’re just staring at each other wide eyed, as a million silent thoughts pass between them.   
  
She licks her lips and finds her voice. “Say something.”  
  
His eyes are darting back and forth between her eyes and her lips, and he doesn’t know what he wants to say, sure that whatever it is that comes out will be the wrong thing.   
  
“Please?” She asks, and she’s not even sure what it is she’s asking for, whether for him to do something or speak, but she’s pushing her hips up into his and she feels him, all of him there against her, and if she wasn’t sure before if he is as into this as she is, she’s pretty damn sure now.  
  
He groans with the movement and rests more of his weight into her, and he feels like a rubber band stretched to capacity waiting to snap. “I don’t want to mess up our friendship, Ronnie.”  
  
She leans up and kisses the side of his mouth softly, pulling back a centimeter so that when she speaks, her lips brush against his. “But what if this is even better?”   
  
They’re both still then, lips barely touching, breathing the same air as their pulses race, and she swears this is the most intimate moment of her life. She wants him to choose to close the gap, leaving the proverbial ball in his court, but she has to egg him on. “Do it,” she mumbles into his mouth, and he finally snaps, pushing that last millimeter of distance away to meet her lips.   
  
_Scorching_ , is how’d she describe it. It’s the most erotic kiss of her life and she feels like her skin is on fire and her clothes are going to burst into flames if she doesn’t get out of them soon. He’s grinding into her like he’s trying to fuck here through their layers of fabric, and she can’t get her legs tight enough around his waist. She doesn’t know where his hands are, because they’re everywhere and nowhere where she wants them, but she’s got one of hers locked in his hair and the other grabbing at his ass trying to pull him in deeper to her as he acquaints himself with her small mouth. She feels one of his hands finally come up to the strap of her top and pull it down over her shoulder as he pulls his lips from hers and mouths down her neck to her collarbone.   
  
His name leaves her lips in a breath and he stops at the sound of it, looking up at her like she hung the fucking moon. “Say it again,” his voice is deeper than she’s ever heard it and she feels her wetness trickling out of her core at the sound.  
  
She’s never been a big talker during sexy times, but she’s leaning down to put her lips against his ear, murmuring Archiekins into it in the most sultry voice she can manage. She swears his pupils are blown when she leans back to the pillow, watching as he dips down to run his tongue over the swell of her still covered breast, exhaling loudly more than moaning with the action, and she’s so hot she suddenly feels like she’s turning into ice.  
  
He’s not one to partake in so much foreplay, as his previous partners usually rush him to get it in, but he wants to trace every inch of her skin with his tongue and taste her everywhere, despite how painfully hard he is pushing against her core, now feeling the dampness there between her legs, and he’s certain he’s a dead man.   
  
She’s clawing up his back as he mouths across to her other shoulder pulling the other strap down with his teeth, and it’s her turn for her eyes to darken at the action. He hasn’t even really touched her yet, and she thinks she could probably come just from him staring at her now.  
  
He tries to use his nose to pull her top down her sternum, but the thing is so skin-tight he has to use his teeth. Her mocha colored tips are finally exposed to his gaze and he dives in before he can really appreciate the sight, tongue immediately lapping at one and teasing the hardened nub before he’s wrapping his lips around it and drawing her into his mouth.   
  
She’s quite literally panting and she can’t keep still beneath him, arching her back up into his mouth as her hands weave into his hair to hold him there. He wraps an arm around her back to hold her up and her head drops back against the pillow as he worships her chest, first increasing the pressure of his hips down into hers, pushing her there into the mattress, before shifting back onto his knees, keeping his other hand steady on her thigh as he draws them up into a semi sitting position.   
  
She wants his mouth on her breast forever, but she also wants to kiss him again so she’s pulling his face up to hers as she bends forward and find his lips. His hand that was on her back moves up to the back of her neck, and her hands find the sides of his face. She was wrong, _this_ is the most erotic kiss of her life and she grinds down into him so he’s the one growling into her mouth. She lets her lips wander when she pulls back for air, running across his jaw and then down his neck, seeking out any skin she can find, biting into his shoulder and she shimmies in his lap until his hand is wrapping around her hair and pulling her head up to meet his gaze.   
  
“There are so many things that I want to do to you,” he whispers, and the words shoot straight down her spine, so that she has to keep him talking.   
  
“Tell me.” She leans back and slides out of his lap to lay down again, tilting her head to the side.  
  
“First, I need to see if I get the same reaction when I suck on your other tit,” he half growls into her skin as he follows her down pulling her top down further with his hands as he settles back into their previous position. As he takes the other breast into his mouth, his fingers find the first to pinch and twist at her nipple, her hands automatically latching into his hair.  
  
“I could let you do this forever,” she says as she turns her head into the pillow. She’s floating on a certain level of pleasure that she never wants to move from, and she doesn’t need air or food or water, she just needs him suckling her like this for eternity.   
  
He pulls his lips away and she lets out a frustrated groan. “I would, but I have so many other things I need to do,” he responds, hooking his fingers into the top of her tank, now around her belly, and dragging it further down her body. He kisses more of her skin as it appears before him, catching her shorts and panties with the shirt as he pulls it all over her ass and then down his legs, tossing the pile behind him and staring down at the most amazing body he’s ever seen.   
  
She’s collected herself again in the time it took him to rid her of her clothes, so she opens up her legs wide to show him what he’s done for her.   
  
If he were a sucker, he thinks he might cry at the sight, but instead his dick twitches fiercely in his boxers as he shifts, so painfully swollen that he wants to ask her if he can take them off, too. But like she can read his mind, she’s shifting up onto an elbow and reach down to touch him there, tiny hand wrapping around him with intention, and that’s it, he wants to ask her to marry him.  
  
She squeezes him through his boxers, happy to have the upper hand now, before she’s pushing the elastic down so she can free him a little. Before he can shift to help maneuver them off she’s grabbing him by his sides to keep him still and leaning down to it, running her tongue over the oozing tip.   
  
He wants to push up into her mouth and shove her head down like any sane man does, but he opts to pull the hair tie out of her hair instead and run his fingers through the dark strands as sucks him like a lollipop.   
  
She pulls back just long enough to tease, “I thought you were telling me all the things you wanted to do to me,” as she slips her hands into his waistband. She looks up into his eyes, tongue running across her lips as he stands and she helps him out of his boxers.   
  
She looks like his own personal angel sitting there on the bed and he leans over to kiss her sweetly, pushing her back down onto the bed as he climbs back on top of her. While he’d love for her to continue what her mouth was doing to his cock, he doesn’t want this night to end prematurely. He grinds into her again after tucking himself up between her legs, slipping through her wetness as his shaft slides over her clit and she pulls her lips away from his to turn her head and moan.   
  
He uses the moment to continue, “I want to taste you. Everywhere.” He speaks the words into her neck, drawing back to trail down her body again, a path he wants to take over and over and over again. When he reaches her lower stomach, he pauses, his face questioning her while his hand shifts her thigh up over his shoulder. She looks down at him and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever seen, his pleading wide eyes staring up at her, and something in her belly flips. “Can I?”  
  
She nods, and bites her lower lip. His nose brushes through her trimmed soft dark curls and even his breath against her skin is enough to get her walls clenching. He pushes her other thigh up and out, spreading her widely to his gaze, and he just looks at her there, stunned.   
  
“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined,” he murmurs more to himself than to her as he leans down to kiss her inner thigh.   
  
She smirks, and can’t let it go. “You’ve imagined, huh?”   
  
His eyes flick up to hers, and he grins devilishly. She bites her lip and arches her eyebrow, egging him on, and the tension in her belly is pulled so tightly she wants to knock him down to her with her ankle.   
  
His hand pushes her leg further open when he feels her trying to move it, and leans over to lick slowly up the side of her core, missing all the important parts to her frustrated groan. “I want you to drown me,” he says before repeating the action on the other side. “I want you to ride my face until I can’t breathe.” His nose nudges against her clit and she makes a noise halfway between a whimper and a shriek. “I want you to fuck my tongue until it’s raw.” His tongue darts out to find it, his free hand wrapping up around the leg on his shoulder to hold her open there for his mouth.  
  
He licks her there in long swipes a few times, pulling more moans from her throat, before he speaks again. “Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”  
  
She doesn’t hesitate and any shyness she had before about talking is long gone. “Quicker.” She reaches down to lock her hands in his hair and push him where she pleases. “You can bite my clit.” So he does, pulling the flesh in between his teeth and worrying it, and her walls twitch around nothing, before he switches back to flicking his tongue at it. Her hips keep rising up to his face, throwing him off so he pushes her back down onto the mattress holding both her legs down and open with his hands heavy on the back of her thighs. She pushes his head down lower and he gets the hint, tongue digging up inside of her and finally tasting the juices that had been covering his chin. He groans at the taste of her, sweet like peaches, and he really does want her to drown him like this.  
  
There’s a delicious stirring in her belly, made so much better when she pulls him back up to her clit, following the pattern she’s tapping onto his scalp with his tongue, the feeling building and building, and she has to pull him away.  
  
“What?” He asks her, his forehead furrowing.   
  
“I don’t want to come yet.”  
  
He stupidly grins, and despite her hands pulling his hair, he dives back in to cover her mound with lips and suck on her clit. The feeling is insane, and she doesn’t know how she doesn’t drop off the earth right then, but he lets her pull him away again.   
  
“Next time,” she stares down at him. “I want to come with you inside me first.”  
  
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, the grin still there as he releases her legs and crawls up to her, one hand coming up to brush the hair off her forehead as he settles himself back into his new favorite spot in the whole world.   
  
He doesn’t get to reflect long on this moment before she reaches down between them, wrapping her hand around him again and guiding him into her. He pushes in slower than he’s ever done before in his life, partly because he’s shocked this is actually happening and he wants to drag it out, and partly because she’s so damn tight he’s afraid to break her.  
  
Her legs come up to wrap around him as he fills her void completely, and the spring in her belly starts to tighten again. He leans down to kiss her once he’s fully sheathed inside her and still can’t believe what’s happening. “Is this real? You’re incredible.”  
  
“So real, Archiekins. You feel so good inside me.” Her heels push against his ass to get him to move and so he does, slow deep thrusts, pulling almost completely out before he repeats his plunge all over again, and he wants to keep doing it this exact same way if she keeps moaning his name like she is, squeezing his cock tighter than ever.   
  
Her hand creeps back between them, her middle finger finding her clit and looks down to watch both her wrist and himself sinking into her. He starts to feel the icy flames shooting up his spine, and it’s killing him keeping this slow pace. When she murmurs _faster_ he’s so right there with her until she follows it with a _harder_ and then he thinks that he for sure is absolutely dead and in heaven.  
  
He needs her to come so badly, because he’s already started running through his mental list of unsexy things to keep himself in check. So he leans down to capture a nipple in his mouth, groaning into her flesh before he starts to suck her there, and it’s not one, two, three more quick, hard thrusts before her moans start to form words.   
  
“Fuck yes, Archie! Do you want me to come on your cock?” She doesn’t know where this voice is coming from, and she’s certainly never said anything quite so dirty before, he feels like he’s reaching the very deepest parts of her and she’s squeezing around him so tight that she thinks she might be strangling him.   
  
He pulls away long enough to say, “Please, come for me. Can I come inside you?”   
  
_Always the gentleman_ she’s able to think through her delirium, and murmurs back something about _yes_ and _on the pill_ , before he’s pistoning inside her, finding that friction despite her being soaked, stretching her leg up higher to get deeper as her finger circles around her clit harder.   
  
There’s no single moment her orgasm hits her. Instead she just existing on this plane of perpetual pleasure as he continues to suck at her chest and pound into her core, and she can’t remember her name or his. She wants him to crawl up into her completely as the waves start to make themselves more discreetly known.   
  
Her walls start some uneven pattern of clenching around him and she’s mumbling nonsense as her head bends back and the blood vessels in her neck stretch out. She’s sucking the life out of him and he has to concentrate in keeping his tempo while she rides herself out, waiting as long as he humanly can before he starts to falter and he’s spurting hotly up into her. His lips seek out hers and they lock together while he thrusts out the rest into her, skin on skin now as she wraps her limbs all around him and clenches down around him one final time.  
  
——-  
  
“So there will be a next time?” He has to ask after their pulses have returned to normal. His face is resting on her chest, her hands brushing through his hair.   
  
She figures _fuck it,_ _we’re well past the point of no return_ so she might as well lay it all out. “I love you, Archie. I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. But I didn’t think you thought that way about me, so I never did anything or said anything or ....”   
  
“Shhh, shhh stop,” he interrupts, lifting his head up, “Veronica, I’m in love with you, too.”   
  
“You are?” She asks quietly.   
  
“Well, what did you think? I was just trying to get some ass?” He laughs down at her, but she’s still staring at him like she doesn’t quite believe the words coming out of his mouth. “I thought I was imagining it, the way you were flirting with me. It was too good to be true.”   
  
“I’m sorry it took a snowstorm and a bottle of wine for me to go for it.”  
  
He rolls them over, pulling her on top of him, so that he can stare up at her, admire all her glowing skin and the flush across her breasts and his heart feels like it’s going to explode out of his chest. “I’m not sorry. Now back to this next time business....”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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